


Trouble in Paradise

by josiepug



Series: Catelyn Tarth [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Gen, Post - A Dance With Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiepug/pseuds/josiepug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against all odds, Brienne of Tarth has survived the war and built a life for herself. But one accident might cost her everything she holds dear...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for my OTP, so...it's all rather exciting. I can't believe how fluffy it is oh my god.  
> This is the beginning of my Catelyn Tarth series. I have plans for at least three more fics to be added in the next few weeks. Though Cat Tarth is not actually in this fic, I promise she will appear soon.

Lady Brienne of Tarth was crying. The tears came thick and fast, but quiet. No one could hear her weakness. No one could know why the Lady of Evenfall was crying in her chambers when the Long Night had ended and spring had come at last. She gasped for control, willing herself to master her body. But so much was already out of control. She felt the beginnings of the bump in her belly. Her moon blood had not come, and she knew.

_Stupid wench. Should have been more careful._ The voice in her head was not her own, but she agreed with the sentiment. She should have taken more precautions. The truth was that she had grown careless in the coming of spring, lulled into false security by her island and her secrets. She had believed for an instant that she, Brienne the Beauty, a dull and ugly woman, had somehow outwitted them all. She had believed that the Dragon Queen would leave her in peace, a loyal minor House to the new Targaryen ruler. She had believed that she could live her own twisted version of the songs in peace on her little island. But she had been careless, and she had been wrong. Now she would pay the price.

Brienne steeled herself for what she must do as she carefully dressed in a comfortable pair of breeches and a shirt. The lack of dress code was one perk of being a ruler on her island. On the way out of her chambers she had the misfortune of passing a looking glass, and she winced. She had never been a pretty woman, but Biter’s mauling had left one half of her face livid and red, a grotesque parody of a lady-like blush.

Just outside of her chambers, she met Garin, the elderly serving man who had seen to Lord Selwyn Tarth’s every need for decades. She hailed him gratefully.

“Garin, friend, would you be so kind as to do me a small service?”

Garin smiled, eyes crinkling in a well-worn smile. “I do believe that is what you pay me to do, my Lady. What is your wish?” Brienne blushed slightly. She had spent so long in armed camps that she often struggled to remember that since her father’s death, she was the Lady of a House and men were sworn to do her bidding.

“Would you send up to my chambers…” She hesitated, bracing herself. “The Master at Arms, if you will.” Brienne desperately willed herself not to blush again. Either she succeeded or Garin was too polite to comment, because he just nodded and turned down the hall.

Brienne let out a breath. Now onto the hard part. She returned to her chambers and sat on her bed, trying to decide what to say. How could she possibly tell him that she had endangered everything that they had worked for? She dreaded what he would say. The vial of moon tea hidden under bed was an almost unbearably heavy presence in the room. What if he hated her for it? She had been spurned many times, but she knew without a doubt that this would be far worse.

A knock came at the door and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Come in,” Her voice was embarrassingly squeaky, her heart feeling as if it might leap out of her chest.

He stepped inside. Obviously, he had just come from the training yard. His shirt was sticking to his chest with sweat, and the sight was not helping her heart at all. “What could I have possibly done to warrant a private audience with the Lady of Evenfall? In her private chambers, no less.” He grinned. 

“Jaime,” she breathed. Despite herself, she felt an absurd rush of relief at seeing him, as if he could save her from this. “I need to speak with you.”

They had spent far too much time together for Jaime not to pick up immediately on her tone of voice. He crossed to the bed quickly, sitting down beside her and holding her right hand with his left. “Brienne, what’s wrong?”

If anything, his reassuring presence made what she had to say all the more difficult to articulate. She was keenly aware of how much she had to lose. “Jaime, I…” There were no words, and suddenly she just blurted it out. “I’m pregnant.”

Jaime dropped her hand as suddenly as if he’d been burned. Brienne winced, and closed her eyes automatically. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see the anger, worse, the disgust, that she was sure that she would find there. 

The silence stretched long, both of them breathing raggedly, unwilling or unable to make the first move. Finally, Brienne could bear it no longer, and she risked a glance at his face.

The streaks of silver in Jaime’s hair were highlighted by the milk white hue that his face had taken on. His eyes were wide and shocked, seemingly unable to comprehend what she had just told him. She saw no anger yet, but she was sure that would come.

Horrified, Brienne realized that tears were beginning to make their way down her cheeks once more. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

Again the silence was painfully long, and she no longer held any hope of stopping the tears. But then his hand wrapped itself around hers once more.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” That was such a blatant lie that Brienne had to laugh, wet and choking and ugly. “That’s not true, Jaime. I’ve ruined it. Everything we’ve worked for. Everything you’ve given up to stay hidden and now I’m going to have a…” She was sobbing in earnest now. “A baby…and I can’t drink the moon tea…I just can’t. And everyone will know and they’ll take you back to King’s Landing, and…and…” She realized that she was babbling, whining like a small child and she didn’t think she’d ever been this afraid. She thought the weight of it would crush her.

And then, suddenly and ridiculously, Jaime laughed. 

Brienne’s first instinct was to coil away from him, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand. “Brienne,” he said when he gotten himself under control. “My dear silly wench, you are being absolutely absurd. We will figure this out, just as we always have. My planning skills are legendary,” Jaime winked at her, and the faintest ghost of a smile touched Brienne’s lips. Jaime was quite possibly the most reckless person she’d ever met.

“In all seriousness, though. Together, we have survived the Bloody Mummers, fought a bear, defeated Lady Stoneheart, killed more wights than I can count and avoided being burned by the Dragon Queen. I think we can handle a baby.”

And then Jaime, formerly of House Lannister, drew close, kissing a tear off of her angry red cheek, and Brienne thought that he might, for once, be right.


End file.
